


Nights Like These

by Gamermel7



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 06:50:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17239457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gamermel7/pseuds/Gamermel7
Summary: Reminiscing and Kissing.





	Nights Like These

**Author's Note:**

> This is my secret Santa gift for Seaborn! So happy to be apart of the Widowtracer discord's secret santa for the first time ever!
> 
> Summer night theme because I Am Just So Cold this winter. 
> 
> Enjoy!

The crickets’ chirps were near deafening to anyone listening. Yet their presence brought comfort, meant safety to anyone who listened. And that’s all Lena was doing.

When she was a girl growing up in the East End of London, the summer nights were when her mother would comfort her. She never listened to her sole guardian about not waiting up for her, but her mother would still smile warmly, seeing how her chipper daughter stood up much too late only so she could tell her about her day, bouncing excitedly all throughout their small flight. Summer nights were special. Summer nights meant no school for little Lena, meant nothing actually stopping her seeing mom at night, when she came home from long days of working. 

When Lena finally calmed down, her mother would carry the sleepy rascal to bed, a tiny mattress and frame nuzzled in the corner of a room most little girls would only consider to be a closet. But not Lena. To her it was home. 

She remembered her mother’s voice, cooing softly at her, and the crickets chirping their lullabies softly outside. She assured her crickets meant safety, meant peace. No predators around their home. 

And certainly no spiders. 

“Chérie…” 

The voice startled Lena so bad that she let out a small yelp, instinctively trying to flick her pulse pistols out of her gauntlets. But they weren’t there no, they had been discarded as soon as she came into the château. A sign of peace, a sign of safety. 

A sign of home, even? Perhaps. She hasn’t quite well decided that one yet. 

“Hiya, luv. Blimey, you nearly gave me a heart attack, sneaking up on me like that.” She turned back around towards the rail of the balcony, overlooking the lake’s expanse. Too dark to nearly see anything but what was right in front of her. But still able to hear all the chirping. “ ‘Course that’s probably why you’re the best right? Quiet as the night itself.” 

Amélie placed one hand on the railing, and another on the small of her companion’s back, feeling but not mentioning the shiver it elicited from the shorter woman. 

“If this night is what you consider quiet, then I assure you I am far from the best.” 

Lena let out a chuckle at that. Quips with Amélie were still something to get used to, but it was at least easier to adjust to then dodging rifle rounds. Much easier. 

“I’d imagine you’d be better at detecting an intruder right behind you. Or is our little Overwatch agent losing her edge?” Amélie’s eyebrow raised smugly, but not mockingly. Months ago, it would be arrogant, but now, it was only playful. 

Lena rubbed the back of her neck, her cheeks burning a bit and making the cold air sting a bit more. Her eyes averted to the side where the blue-skinned woman wasn’t standing, hoping she didn’t notice but knowing in the back of her head such a thing wouldn’t be missed by the perceptive assassin. 

“Normally, I am better at it. But, eh…I was miles away…” She trailed off, regaining her composure as she remembered her thoughts before she was interrupted.

Amélie noticed the hazel eyes glance downwards towards the rocky shoreline, upwards towards the starry night sky, which on a clear night, the galaxy itself would be visible. But tonight, was not clear. It was a foggy, muggy, summer night. It seemed to Amélie that Lena’s thoughts and the current weather shared these attributes. 

And those hazel eyes. Glancing at everything except towards her. She would be annoyed, if she weren’t so curious. 

“Where were you, if I may ask?” Amélie softly spoke. Cautiously, and as light as her footsteps were when she interrupted those muddled thought floating in the Brit’s pretty little head. 

Lena did appreciate that about Amélie, though. She never overstepped her boundaries with her, never took too much from her, without her consent. Being ‘the’ Overwatch agent came at a price of almost never having her privacy or her space respected, as she was easily recognizable by either her trademark outfit or the glowing beacon on her chest. 

“ ‘s nothing really. Thinking about the East End, home if you will. Nights like these were always the best growing up. It took me back, is all.” Lena was finally able to bring her eyes up to meet Amélie’s, but it may as well have been the death of her. 

Those eyes. So many times, she had seen them pointed at her through that gun so aptly named the Widow’s Kiss (Lena preferred the real widow’s kisses, much nicer really). They were beautiful and mysterious and so damn analytical. Old habits die hard, for ex-Talon assassins, maybe they took a little longer to kill. 

Lena squirmed as best she could underneath Amélie’s iron grip, the hand at her back not moving an inch. She normally would’ve tried to set her gaze elsewhere, but there she was, paralyzed within golden irises and she couldn’t escape. Not that she wanted to. 

“You say it was nothing. Your eyes betray you, ma chérie. You don’t have to tell me anything you do not want to. But I prefer you didn’t lie, either.” The words were punctuated, yet not harsh. Maybe some habits died faster than others.

Lena was finally able to pull out of the magnetic glow of Amélie’s eyes, her awkward blushing shedding away to stoic agreement. 

“My mother would talk to me and tell me the most wonderful stories during summer nights when she would get home from her graveyard shift. She was a seamstress, ya see? Good, fast, hands. But that kind of work is bloody exhausting, and she’d still stay up with me anyway! Any other mum would’ve been driven mad with a tot like me, talking her ear off. Not her though.”

Lena closed her eyes and drew out a long sigh. “Guess I just miss her. And it’s the little things that hurt the most. A scent, a shimmer of light…crickets...” she breathed out shakily. “Sorry, luv. Didn’t mean to turn this into…well, this I guess. I really did just want some fresh air and-“

“From what I remember, my mother was a strict tyrant of the manor. Always proper and perfect. She loved me, I know. But the coldness of how she showed it left much to be desired.” Amélie interrupted, spoke so fast that Lena couldn’t stutter out a response. She turned to face her partner, who’s golden eyes were now focused on a horizon that was too dark to actually see. 

Lena thought for a moment as she stared, dumbfounded to find the find the right words. “I’m…I am real sorry about bringing this up and all, luv.” 

Amélie let a soft smile creep onto her features, her sharp cheekbones becoming more rounded with the expression. “There is no need to be sorry, Lena.” She turned fully to face Lena now, each pair of eyes finding each other despite the significant height distance. 

Amélie rested her forearms elegantly across the brunette’s shoulders, interlocking her fingers together behind her neck. “Hearing about your past, your life, your mother, it makes me feel good. Warm. I am happy you share these memories with me. It leaves less silence to fill with my sad, droll, memories”

Lena inhaled warm, humid air into her lungs nearly too fast. The blood returned to heat her cheeks, but she wasn’t bothering hiding it now. After a moment of staring dumbly into eyes too pretty for her, she smiled brightly, the blush still remaining on her cheeks. 

“It is nice to share, yeah? But it is alright if not everything is all sunshine and rainbows in what we want to share. I want to know everything about you too. Good, bad, ugly. All of it.” 

Amélie let out a curt chuckle at that, a sly grin replacing the smile she held before as she strived to close the distance between the two. “I assure you, ma amour, none of my memories are ugly.” 

Lena let herself relax more, no longer hearing the cricket song that was serenading the two in a frame perfect for a summer love story, but instead only hearing the French-woman’s coy laugh and her own heart beating in her ears. It was always like this, this headiness like she had just left the pub on a sour night. Being close to Amélie was intoxicating like that. 

Kissing her was the opposite. It was a stimulant not a depressant, where all her nerve endings lit up with sparks and fire burning hotter than the sun. Lena’s lips harmonized with Amélie’s, caught in a tango not nearly as deadly as the ballets of violence they once dished out with each other. Still, this dance was just as thrilling. 

Lena felt her hands drift down to her lady’s hips, pulling her waist first closer into her. They both let out a sigh at the movement, but Amélie’s could easily be better described as a growl. 

“Inside. I can’t think with all these damn crickets chirping.” 

“Yeah you might definitely want to look into an exterminator or something.”


End file.
